


I'll Follow You Till The End of My Days

by Never_Ending_Pencil



Series: Following Each Other [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, College Student Marco Bott, Dork Marco Bott, Eventual Smut, Gay, Gay Marco Bott, Jean Is A Little Shit, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, POV Marco Bott, its attack on titan what did you expect, marco has a hero complex, mentions of sexual trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_Ending_Pencil/pseuds/Never_Ending_Pencil
Summary: Marco watches this struggling artist try and scrape by day to day on nothing. Then takes it upon himself to help him overcome it. What he didn't expect, however, was this depressed artist helping him in ways he never knew he needed.Marco's POV of "Will You Really Follow Me?"
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Reiner Braun & Bertolt Hoover & Annie Leonhart, Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer
Series: Following Each Other [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933279
Kudos: 6





	I'll Follow You Till The End of My Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's POV of when he first meets Jean.   
> He goes shopping, does some homework, works late, steals a sketchbook, and some other things in here~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was lowkey fun to make. I hope you'll enjoy this!!

Jean is more of the sappy one. He likes to call me the stars... and I find that really funny. If I'm the stars he must be the center of the "nebula" he calls me. He's so beautiful. I know it sounds cheesy. And as blunt and grumpy he is, I love him and his dumbass so much. This is the story of how I promised to follow Jean. 

[Jean's POV](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502394/chapters/64589881#main)

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up and stretch, humming happily. I walk the few feet over to my little shower carrier and pick it up. I hum and walk over, opening the curtains. My dorm room was VERY small. There was barely any legroom. My bed was tucked into the corner with my grey sheets and dark green sheets and pillowcases. I smile as lightning flashes. I look over to my alarm **"5:33 AM"** I smile. Just enough time to get breakfast and shower. I grab my clothes for the day, which is a long sleeve, brown turtleneck, black jeans that are a little tighter, and black hightops. I softly walk through the halls, making my way to the shared showers. 

I slide in and remove my clothes, putting my clothes in a little lockbox outside of the shower. It's some stupid thing we have to do now since some kid stole clothes and hid them. I'm grateful at least that I wasn't the kid. I slide into the shower and turn on the hot water. I sigh loudly, letting the warm droplets hit my face. I run a hand through my hair and shake the water into it, making sure it's wet. I run my shampoo through my hair. A lot of people would make fun of the fact that I buy "cinnamon pine" shampoo. But it smells so good. So I don't care. 

I turn the water off and open up the lockbox, taking my clothes out, and getting dressed. I step out of the shower and run a hand through my hair. I gather my shower things and go back to my room. The clock on my wall said, **"6:02 AM"** which is just enough time for me to spend on homework. I pick up some homework I didn't do last night and hurry to finish it. My walls were framed with fairy lights. There were photos beside my bed of my younger sister, my mother, and my father. I hum softly along with my music playing on my ancient iPod. It's old but it still works. 

I glance back at the clock a little later and my heart nearly jumps out of my throat. **"7:58 A M"** the clock screeched at me. Class starts in 12 minutes. I throw my iPod into my backpack and swing it around my shoulders. I gather all my books and homework papers and run out of the room, shoving my keys in the lock and keeping my room safe.

I sigh and start running. I look down at my papers and crash into someone. I yelp and fall forward, crushing the pencil-like man underneath me. I groan softly and pick my head up. I notice a sharp pair of honey amber eyes gazing at me in shock and annoyance. I scramble off him and start gathering my papers.

The boy sits up and glares at me. If looks could kill- oooo boy I'd be very very dead right now. I flinch when he starts shouting "JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE???" The boy looks around, growling a little. He sees a book and growls louder "Fuck! And you ruined my sketchbook!!" He glares. His loose fitting shirt was all dusty and crumpled. I felt so so so bad. He starts looking around again.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!!" I call out, feeling embarrassed and guilty. He whips his head back over and gives me a once over like he's trying to determine whether to kill me or not. "I-I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking!" I honestly wasn't. It's a stupid mistake. 

"Yeah, no shit" he grumbles, standing up and patting his clothes down, the dirt and dust falling to the ground again. Wow, no one ever cleans these floors. I stand up and pat down my shirt and jeans. He looks over at me and looks at my ass. I blush dark. What was he?- "It looks like your ass got assaulted by a piece of chalk." he barks out at me. I jump a little and bite back a laugh. I pat down my ass, making sure most of it's off. "I'm-"

"Sorry. Yeah I know." He glances down at his sketchbook and picks it up again. "Sorry doesn't bring back my sketchbook." He grumbles. 

I stick out my hand "Let me make it up to you! My name is Marco Bodt!" I smile, hoping he won't bite my hand off or something. He must not be a morning person. He glares down at my hand and looks back up at me. His eyes were so pretty. 

"hmmm. I think you've done enough damage today." He throws his sketchbook in the trash.

"H-Hey wait!!" I call out, but he's already gone. I sigh sadly and walk over. I pull his sketchbook from the garbage and flatten out some of the pages. A name was written on the back of the book " _Jean Kirstein_ " which was written in sloppy, rushed handwriting. I hum a little. Jean... like.. "jeen" or "jshawn" I inspect the name a little more and brush off some of the paper, flipping through the pages. It's not TECHNICALLY stealing since he threw it away- _oh my god_

I gape at the drawing in the book, they're amazing. They're sketchy but in a way that makes it look intentional. There are profiles of people everywhere and even a few self-portraits that don't hold a torch to how he actually looks. Does he really think this way? I flip through a few more pages and I see a slumped over figure with messy hair and a thin frame being held down by hands. It looks...unnerving.

I gather up my papers and books and toss them into my backpack, holding Jean's sketchbook close. 

I slump down into my seat, sighing blissfully. It's my day off today from my med classes. I took an art class as a downtime class because- while I'm not so good at art- it's really relaxing. I shrug off my raincoat and plop it beside my bag. I look down a couple of rows and perk up. It's the kid with the undercut!- or Jean. I look down at the book again and nod. Yeah, Jean. I smile a little. I didn't realize he shared an art class with me. I smile down at him and watch him draw on a loose-leaf piece of paper. A pang of guilt built it's way up my spine but I ignored it. He looked like he was deep in thought. He wasn't even paying attention to a word the teacher was saying. What was he thinking about? He was like that the whole class, with an occasional shudder. 

Something I found cute about him, was that when he was drawing without really paying attention, he would twirl the pen while trying to think. Nothing too crazy. But just an endless loop. He also had a habit of biting his knuckle if he thought about something bad. At least I think because whenever he bit his knuckle he would squeeze his eyes shut and grimace. I was kinda worried about him. He looked like he barely ever slept. 

Oh, wait- I barely slept. I let out a soft chuckle. I pull out some med homework and get started on that. After the first 15 minutes, it's basically a free period. There's not a lot to say about the classes. I mostly just did homework while the teacher talked. 

During lunch, I go up to the roof and pull out more homework. I work and study until the bell rings. It's basically the same thing every day. Being a med student is H A R D. 

When class ended for me around **3:03** I had work in two hours, roughly. So I had to hurry to the store and buy the sketchbook. I hop in my car and drive down to Walmart.

"Ymir!- Just- graahhhh- Just tell me which sketchbook would be a good one to get!!" I argue into the phone. I had been standing here for a good 5 minutes waiting for Ymir to get her brain out of her vagina and actually answer my question. I was in the art section at Walmart, trying to find a good sketchbook. But remember what I said before? I'm terrible at art and can't tell what a good sketchbook is. Ymir was an art major so I was HOPING she'd be able to help me. But she keeps trying to get up Krista's skirt while on the phone with me. 

"I'm busy- you called me up to get some dumb sketchbook for your boyfriend?" Ymir shouts over the phone. I can hear a soft voice in the background. She must be with Krista right now. I better hurry. I do NOT want to be around when they have their "girl time" as Ymir loves to call it. 

"Ymir- I just met him!" I protest, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Ooooo kinky"

"I accidentally knocked him over and ruined his sketchbook. I want to pay it back"

"You better knock him up-"

"YMIR!!" I shout and then blush, covering my face. Ymir's cackles echo through the phone. 

"Got you~ hehe hehe send me a photo and I'll give you a brief synopsis of what the best one is to get." Ymir cackles. 

I blush darker and send her a photo, grumbling protests. "You exhaust me sometimes, ya know that?"

"What are best friends for?~" Ymir teases. I hear her shuffle around. She hums. "Okay so the sketchbooks on the left are cheaper but the paper is all bumpy and if anything gets wet, the entire book is ruined. The books in the middle, however, are better quality- less paper though. Not much to say about them. They're good for like- traveling sketchbooks or a gift for someone. The books on the right are expensive but really good quality and lots of pages. What brand did you say this Jeen character had?"

"It's JEAN and It's just a black book. I didn't see any brand or anything on it." I mumble, flipping through the pages of Jean's notebook. 

"I'd recommend choosing something from the middle" Ymir chimes in. I look up at all the different sketchbooks. 

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks" I respond "Have fun with Krista"

"oh you know I will~"

I chuckle and hang up. I go over to the right and pick up a black sketchbook. It's pretty thick. About as thick as the first Hunger Games book. I flip through the pages. The paper is nice and smooth. I hum and look at the price. "20 bucks?" I groan "That's ridiculous...It's good quality though.." I hum. I pick the book up and slip my phone into my pocket. I walk over to the cashier. I place the book on the belt and take out my wallet, paying for the book. I really hope he'll like it. 

Work lasted really really late. I was a barista at the college coffee shop "Rose Coffee Shop". It was actually a really nice coffee shop. But it was open so so late. It was exhausting. I didn't get off of work until **"11:15 pm"** . I sigh I hope Jean was still awake. I walk back to my dorm and go to where I saw him come out of earlier that morning. I knock on the door in the middle since that usually works. I listen for a second and back away, hearing noises that are NOT rated PG13. I knock on the right door and there's nothing. This person must be asleep.

Finally I knock on the left door. I hear a grunt and a thump. I pull my hand back. The door swings open. I glance at Jean and blush a little, I hope he doesn't notice. He's in black workout shorts, a large Tshirt. His expression was soft and curious, wondering who was at his dorm this late at night. His hair was also a mess, his hair sticking out all over the place. He was so cute. He blinked and rubbed his eyes "Marco?" He muttered out, looking around. He remembered?? "H-Hi!!" I say, giving him a small smile. Wow I sounded tired. "I- uh-I bought you this" I say, holding up the sketchbook to him. His eyes widen a little. 

He looks down at the book like it's the strangest thing he's ever seen. "How did you know what dorm I was in?"

"I live in this dorm"

"How did you find my room?"

"I watched you come in here after classes. I knocked on a few wrong doors if that makes you feel better" I chuckle a little, hoping it calms Jean's nerves a little. Jean stutters, obviously shocked, I think touched, by my gift. 

"Yeah...um... so- sorry again..." I mumble. I pause, feeling a yawn coming. I grit my teeth a little, trying to hold it back. "for crashing into you"

"it's uh- it's all good" Jean mumbles, flipping through some of the pages. I hope he doesn't get too mad at my note. I wait there for a second and nod a goodnight to him, walking back towards my room, letting my yawn go. I hear the door close and smile softly. Mission Completed? I think? 

I chuckle a little and walk back into my room. I strip down to my boxers and stumble into some sweatpants. Fuck shirts. Shirts are too hot at night. I flop into my bed, curling underneath my blankets. I look at the time and sigh softly. **"12:02"** Another late night. huh? 

A loud **BANG** pulls me from my sleep. I shoot up- what's going on? Did someone break-in? I open my door and look outside, ready to fight the intruder. Instead, I see the boy from earlier- Jean is booking it down the hallways. I trail after him. He looks more pale than normal, terrified. I can hear his shuddering breaths and thumping footsteps run down the hall. I follow him to the bathroom and skid to a stop when I hear him retching in a stall. His shaky, terrified breaths filling the silence. I hear a soft whimper come from his mouth. My body moves and I walk in, pushing open the stall. I gasp at how he looks. 

He's slumped over the toilet, his lips coated in tears and stomach acid, the bags under his eyes darken in the blinding lights of the bathroom, his shirt clinging to him with sweat, his hair flopped over and sticking to his forehead, there are tears in his glazed over eyes- The sight kills me. He looks so thin and hollow. He looks over at me and barely registers me before his eyes roll back and he slides off the toilet. I rush forward, reaching for his hand "Jean!!" 

I rush forward, flushing the toilet of its contents. I pick Jean up off the tiled floor and walk him over to the sink. I turn on the cold water and splash some in his face. Okay Okay Okay. He's okay- well he's _alive_. I place a hand onto his forehead. He doesn't feel like he has a fever- but he's not exactly normal temperature. I drag him back to his room and lay him down, finding a towel nearby and wiping him down with it. His clothes and bed are drenched with sweat. The sheets and blankets are scrunched up and kicked around like Jean was thrashing in his sleep. I run back to the bathroom and drench a rag, coming back and laying it on his head. He groans in his sleep, thrashing a little. 

"Hey hey- you're okay- you're okay" I whisper, dragging my fingers up and down his arm. His hard features slowly soften and soft snores leave his mouth. I sigh softly and look around his room. Holy cow it's a mess. Then again, mine isn't any different. I sigh softly and go into my room, picking up my endless pile of homework and go back into his room. I open the book and start working. 

Looks like another sleepless night. 


End file.
